I was crusing the wire and ran across a great piece from the Ft. Worth Star-Telegram about iPod worship. It was another moment of headbobbing recognition. iHeart my iPod.

When I got it for Christmas 2003, I didn't even know I wanted one. I don't have that much music; I've always stuck to my safe bands and haven't really adventured into the shiny new world of independent bands or mashups or downloads or whathaveyou. Give me a U2 album in a discman and I'm pretty much set for the day (It's all about a high threshold for repetition). Still, out of the box, I was shocked, touched and totally stoked to own one. Over the last year, I've slowly transfered my music an album at a time.

I've taken up a whole two gigs out of my 10 gig drive. A whopping 392 songs, all backed up on my laptop.

I bring this up, because my pod's one of the dead battery breed. It's a ten gig, second generation jobbie my dad picked up used off of eBay. I'm not sure how many charges it took before it came into my posession, but it took a few. Within a month, it was only able to hold a two to three hour charge, and as of now, I'm forced to keep my wires at work, so I can maintain a constant power connection.

I know I should just send iPoddy (yes, I named my iPod and I named my iPod iPoddy) in for a fresh battery. Hell, it's only a hundred bucks, a couple of weeks and then I'll be back to being mobile for however long.

I just can't do it, though. I can't part with my baby that long. That thing's become my liferaft, man. If I don't have it at work, I'm shaky and irritable and headachy. It's caffeine in a white and silver case. It's on my desert island list. It's ludacris.

And don't even get me started on my iTunes addition. My god. I've started cruising iMixes to find new music and music I'd lost. Just last night, I was giggling like a demented anime character when I found "Banditos" by the Refreshments.

Adam doesn't have an iPod. Yet. I'm working on him.